


Conundrum

by zanka



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-22 01:36:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2489627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zanka/pseuds/zanka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The clichéd high school AU that every ship needs! Sinbad is the kind, flirty, popular, outgoing sweetheart whom everyone seems to love (and is pretty half-assed about studying) while Ja'far is the (seemingly) quiet boy who likes to isolate himself in the corner of the classroom, uncaring of anything but his own grades. Sinbad notices him and attempts to invite him to his circle and, well, eventually more-than-platonic feelings ensue.<br/><br/>There may or may not be drama later on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (For now I'm treating this as sort of a crack fic. :D)

"Hey! Wanna hang out at the library again after school? I heard there's a Chem test tomorrow and I'm gonna be really screwed if you guys don't help me out," laughed Sinbad uneasily, running a hand through his violet hair.

"That wouldn't be the case if you had just paid attention in class instead of hitting on other girls," chided Yamraiha, crossing her arms.

Sharrkan, who was most unfortunately her desk partner, chimed in, "Eh I'll go with you. Girls just don't get that boys need to-OUCH! What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Wrong with _me?!_ I'll show you what's _wrong_ with me if you open that stupid mouth of yours again-" shrieked Yamraiha, yanking on Sharrkan's left ear angrily.

"LET GO OF ME YOU CRAZY WOMAN! Somebody help! Somebody  _send_ help! HELP!" yelled Sharrkan croakily as Yamraiha wrestled him to the ground with a minacious glint in her eye.

"Uh, I'm just gonna...go," said Sinbad awkwardly while Sharrkan reached desperately for a pen in an attempt to poke Yamraiha's fleshy waist, hoping that the gesture would shock her off of him.

Sinbad made his way back to his desk on the other side of the classroom, leaving the spectacle. He sighed, secretly cursing how his teacher had sat him away from all his best friends because he kept "distracting everyone" and "should use his limitless energy to put more effort into his work". If only he hadn't tried to hit on Yamraiha back then, Sharrkan probably wouldn't have abruptly flipped his shit and tried to kill him, and they would have peacefully remained desk partners discussing things more important than their school work like girls and video games...

"Ah!" Sinbad started at the sound of Yamraiha's cry, realising that Sharrkan must have finally managed to get out of her vice-like grip. "I'LL TOSS YOUR DECAPITATED HEAD INTO THE OCEAN, YOU USELESS PIECE OF MOULDY BREAD!"

 _The kind of things that happen when there's no teacher in class,_ thought Sinbad.

He heard the sound of a tongue clicking behind him and an irritated mutter, "Stupid idiots, making so much goddamn noise..."

Sinbad immediately turned his head at the voice, realising that he couldn't recognise it. A white-haired boy with oddly fair skin was glaring intently at his work, scribbling away furiously.

Sinbad was about to respond when the boy suddenly shot up, yelling at the two bickering fools, "OI, SHUT UP YOU TWO! I'M TRYING TO DO MY WORK HERE!"

The entire class went silent except for the sound of the white-haired boy profusely steaming like an egg, but Sinbad broke the silence, grinning at him in amusement, "Wow! I totally thought you were the silent type. Hey, anyway, my name's Sinbad and I know it's been like a whole month but I haven't noticed yo-"

The boy dropped his pen at once and shot Sinbad a look so deadly that he felt his blood freeze. "Oh, I _know_ you,  _Sinbad,"_  he spat venomously. " _You're_ the reason no one ever pays attention in class! I failed my Maths test last week because  _you_ couldn't shut up during lesson and now I have no idea what's going on!"

"You..." murmured Sinbad, his eyes suddenly growing abnormally huge in wonderment.

The boy instantly became wary of the maniacal look that conquered Sinbad's facial features without warning. Leaning back cautiously to place a safe distance between them, the boy hissed, "Oi... What's with that creepy face..."

Suddenly Sinbad burst. "You have freckles! Wow! That is so freaking cool! Can I touch them?" asked Sinbad excitedly, leaning forward across the other's desk.

" _What?_ "

"Hey come on, lemme touch your freckles. It's for science." Sinbad reached towards the other's face eagerly as the latter clawed at Sinbad, protesting vehemently for him to get away.

"Sinbad! Stop harassing Ja'far and face the front!" Sinbad went ramrod straight at the sharp sound of their English teacher's voice.

Sulking miserably, he reluctantly turned around and muttered an apology. But inside, his thoughts were churning away a mile a minute with an unmistakable sense of pride bubbling in his chest.

_Ja'far, you say?_

\---

The classroom was filled with the usual cheers as the bell rang, signalling the end of school. The teacher snapped her book shut and immediately dismissed the class while a group of boys grabbed their half-closed bags and made a mad dash for the door. Ja'far just finished packing up and was about to leave when Sinbad instantly stood up and blocked his path.

For a fateful second, Ja'far stared up into his triumphant amber eyes. A pause, a heartbeat, a fleeting moment...

Then, wordlessly, he turned around and walked the other way.

"Hey!" cried Sinbad, caught off-guard by the silent treatment. "Ja'far!"

When Ja'far simply continued walking, Sinbad rushed after him. In a surge of adrenaline, his left foot caught one of the table's legs and he tripped, falling over. As he tried to use his right foot to balance himself in time, it accidentally twisted and Sinbad crashed onto the floor.

Trying his best not to curse aloud, he rubbed his ankle painfully and tried to get back up. "Ouch!" he winced, feeling a sharp pain.

At the thud and a skin-raising creak of a chair against the floor, Ja'far immediately turned and hurried over. He crouched beside Sinbad and asked worriedly, "Are you alright?!"

"Heh," Sinbad attempted to smirk but it ended up looking more like a grimace with the pain, "knew you had a heart somewhere deep down inside."

Scowling at the poorly executed joke, Ja'far threw the other's arm behind his shoulders and heaved him up with Sinbad's uninjured foot as leverage. "Don't be a dumbass. God knows why you were trying to get my attention and I just feel bad that you've embarrassed yourself."

Leaning his weight on Ja'far, Sinbad unabashedly leaned into his ear and whispered hotly, "But you realise I could just hop my way back, right?"

Appearing somewhat miffed and flustered, Ja'far hastily threw the other's arm off his shoulders, causing Sinbad to lose his balance again but thankfully fall right into his seat. Sinbad yelped at the pain in his bum as he landed.

"What do you want?"

Sinbad frowned at the antagonistic tone, rubbing his aching bottom. "I just wanted to be friends with you."

Ja'far looked surprised at the sincerity but immediately schooled his countenance back into something more neutral and unreadable. "That is very abrupt. What's your motive?"

"I-what?" sputtered Sinbad.

With a brief icy chuckle, Ja'far clarified, "Your kind usually wants something out of people like me. So what's your motive for entering a friendly relationship with me?"

Dusting himself off coolly, Sinbad said, "I don't know what the heck you're talking about. You sound like you're kinda high, even. Anyway," Sinbad looked around for Yamraiha and Sharrkan. He sighed upon realising that they must have forgotten about their meeting once again. Sharrkan did have a penchant for forgetting their plans after all. "Wanna come to the library with me?"

"Do you think this is a joke?!" growled Ja'far heatedly. Sinbad noticed with apprehension that he was starting to clench his fists.

"Okay, okay, chill. Look, why do you think I have a motive?"

"You are popular."

" _Wow._ That sure clears things up."

"I'm glad it does. So what is your _motive?_ " repeated Ja'far through gritted teeth.

"Wait! I was being sarcastic, dude!" panicked Sinbad, watching Ja'far's pupils thin dangerously. _Uh-oh._

"You're wasting my time." As Ja'far began to leave, Sinbad quickly grabbed his wrist.

"Wait," commanded Sinbad. At the sudden severity in his tone, Ja'far whipped around, wondering if it was even the same person who had spoken, but the tone immediately switched back to familiar whining. "I twisted my ankle because of you. You can't just leave me here like this!"

Ja'far remained silent, his icy gaze unwavering but questioning.

"Okay see, uh. I really don't have a motive. I don't know why you'd think I do and to be honest I think you're really weird asking stuff like that, but you're also really cute and I really want to get to know you. That good enough?"

The sudden change in Ja'far's expression was hysterical. "Cute?"

Sinbad started to blush the same shade of pink that was dusting Ja'far's freckly cheeks. Changing the subject, he asked, "How does me being popular have anything to do with some kind of motive?"

"I don't know," whispered Ja'far, the first sign of vulnerability beginning to surface. "No one has ever bothered making friends with me and I can only figure that those like you who already have enough friends would want to make use of people like me."

"Well now you got a friend, whether you like it or not," grinned Sinbad, trying to brighten the mood. "Sooo. Let's do this whole friendship thing again. Sinbad," he offered a hand, flashing the most charming smile Ja'far had ever seen.

"...Ja'far," he responded weakly, gingerly taking the other's hand and shaking it tentatively.

"Okay, cool! Nice to meet you, Ja'far. Now let's go!" Completely forgetting his injury, Sinbad eagerly stood, his chest puffed out and ready to march with the pride over his newfound companionship when suddenly, there was a loud crack.

In that very moment, a howl with the sorrow of a thousand wolves could be heard throughout the entire school, and let it be said that neither Sinbad nor Ja'far studied at all that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha sorry this is reeeeeeally clichéd and all over the place. I don't really know where the story is going just yet but for now I'm just enjoying trying to characterise these two dorks. Hope you enjoyed the fic! :D


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ja'far finally reaches home after having to take Sinbad to the hospital. (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for this terribly late update! I hope I'm getting this chapter down by New Year, and that you're all enjoying yourselves. I finally finished my national exams not too long after that first chapter and then I had a really long break during which I had to sort out a lot of my life... But anyway, I've finally had the next few chapters or so planned out so there might actually be a storyline to this after all, but it won't be that apparent just yet. You know how high school is.  
> Also, thank you all so much for the kudos and even just reading this. Happy 2015 everyone, and I hope you enjoy! :)

Stumbling through his doorstep in a stricken daze, Ja'far desperately clung onto his school bag for dear life. He looked up at the clock hanging precariously on his bedroom wall.

It was 11pm.

Ja'far gasped. _No way..._ he thought to himself, eyes growing comically wide as they focused on nothing in particular, a sure sign of the terror that welled up in his face. He held up his hands at either side of his face, fingers curling up in despair. _How is this even possible?_

Sinbad first sprained his ankle at approximately 3.17pm, Ja'far was sure. Class had ended promptly at 3.15pm and Ja'far usually took about one and a half minutes to keep all his things before leaving. And after maybe another thirty seconds or so, he ran into a certain fool who actually tripped over himself trying to get Ja'far's attention.

At that point in his deductive recollection, Ja'far was thrown off. He was reminded of the determination that overtook Sinbad's gaze, an image of that one-sided, cheeky smirk before Ja'far turned around to walk away and--

_Wait no, damn it,_ grumbled Ja'far in frustration. _I'm supposed to be calculating the times at which all the events occurred. They don't seem to add up. It can't be 11pm already; I still need to study! Focus, Ja'far._

Ja'far removed his school bag and plopped down on his bed absently. At around 3.20pm, Ja'far must have helped him up. Ja'far felt Sinbad's hot, humid breath caressing the shell of his ear -

_"You realise I could just hop my way back, right?"_

A chill ran up Ja'far spine at the memory. He instantly recoiled and looked around in panic, as if someone else had been in the room listening in on his thoughts. He shook his head, telling himself that this was no good. 

Ja'far decided that he should shower first - thoughts always flowed a lot more freely during showers, he noted. As he deftly pulled the first button of his blouse loose, his mind continued to mischievously wander.

At 3.22pm, Sinbad had extended his hand to Ja'far. Ja'far recalled the broadness of Sinbad's arm as well as the prominence of its bronze hue and definitive musculature...

He carefully stepped into the shower after fully undressing and gingerly turned the shower on. As his mussy hair became more and more soaked through, he found that he had been unwittingly flexing his fingers with the memory of grasping his friend's hand. Why was he still dwelling on this? If Ja'far had to be honest with himself, he knew that something about the entire having-a-new-friend thing bothered him. He had always been a lone wolf, a one-man army if you will, and the thought of now being partially responsible for another person's emotions and wellbeing frightened him. On one hand, he desired companionship but on the other, he wished to hold onto the security that the lack of a relational attachment offered him.

_What a troublesome conundrum._

Pouring some scentless liquid on his palm, he released a breath he'd been holding in. It seemed that his mind was rebelling; it refused to do as he told which was to diligently calculate what time it's _supposed_ to be, instead offering completely unwanted images of Sinbad's physical closeness and every related detail in its place.

Yet, that one word resounded in his head and all of a sudden Ja'far snapped back to reality.

_Studying._

He gritted his teeth, scrubbing vigorously all over his body with the shampoo and hoped that the sheer force of his movements would prevent his mind from going wayward yet again. _Focus._

That's it! It couldn't have taken more than a minute for Ja'far to accept Sinbad's handshake and knowing Sinbad's nauseating self-assuredness, his pride couldn't have taken more than ten seconds to kick in which soon enough led to his downfall, which would happen to be spraining his ankle.

Ja'far was getting the hang of this. His fingers began to work more quickly through his hair.

 

_**~~~le flashback~~~** _

3.30pm. Ja'far finally managed, with half of Sinbad's practically dead weight against him, to get to the school bus stop. Sinbad had been chattering on non-stop but Ja'far paid him no attention, instead looking out for buses that would get them to the hospital.

3.37pm. Ja'far was starting to get tired of waiting and his ears were becoming strained from listening to Sinbad talk and talk.

3.54pm. By now, Ja'far knew like the back of his hand Sinbad's favourite foods, types of clothes, hairstyles, colours, colour _gradients_ and most regrettably, type of women. And yet he knew not when the bus was coming.

4.11pm. This time, Ja'far learnt _Sharrkan's_ favourite foods, types of clothes, hairstyles, colours, and somehow even more regrettably, type of women. And _still_ he knew not when the bus was coming.

4.28pm. Ja'far was awfully impatient and felt very much like striking something. Actually, he was trembling with so much anger that Sinbad was beginning to get a little worried that he might pass out from infuriation. Even Sinbad himself had fallen silent after running out of things about himself and his friends to tell Ja'far, and the other had refused to share much about himself besides the fact that he studied a lot. Too much in fact, if Sinbad might add.

Suddenly, Sinbad cried out, "The bus! The bus!"

Leaving his fury behind in the dust, Ja'far shot out of his seat and flagged for the bus with as much enthusiasm and excitement as a spectator at an intense football match. Sinbad watched him silently from his own seat, chuckling at how rowdy Ja'far could actually get.

"Let's go," said Ja'far as he helped Sinbad shakily up the bus. Thankfully, there were many empty seats so they sat in one of the closest ones to the front so that Sinbad wouldn't have to walk too much.

They both fell into the seats in exhaustion and collectively let out a sigh of relief. When Ja'far looked up, he was horrified to find that Sinbad's face was just centimetres away from his.

"Errr Ja'far," murmured Sinbad, scratching his cheek a little awkwardly, "you're still holding me."

Ja'far immediately released him and Sinbad nearly fell over backwards.

"I can't believe this," said Ja'far, turning away and hurriedly changing the topic. He crossed his arms and leaned back, relaxing. "We waited a whole hour just for this stupid bus. I could be doing so much more with my life right now."

Sinbad piped up and smirked teasingly. "Oh, like what? Studying or studying?"

Ja'far bit his lip in embarrassment and slapped the other's arm. "Shut up."

He wracked his brain for a moment. What else _would_ he be doing? Then finally, the answer came to him and proudly he proclaimed, "For your information, I don't just study. I could be...cleaning my room too!"

Sinbad's jaw hung open in total disbelief, staring at Ja'far like he came from an entirely different planet. "You're actually saying that like it's any different?"

"What's wrong with cleaning?!" shrieked Ja'far indignantly, face reddening.

4.46pm. The two boys had fallen into a comfortable, even companionable silence, unlike the one at the bus stop which had been more awkward.

5.00pm. Sinbad had resumed some conversation, but it was, like the silence, a lot easier on Ja'far than it had been at the bus stop. After all, his nerves were far less charged now.

"It seems like no one really takes this bus..." said Sinbad, looking around. There was an old man who had fallen asleep in one of the seats towards the back, but besides him, there was absolutely no one else.

"That's strange," agreed Ja'far. "Hey, shouldn't we have reached the hospital a lot sooner than this?"

"Yeah, I thought so too. I'm pretty sure it was just a fifteen-minute ride. They even changed the bus route two years ago so that it would be easier because students kept hurting themselves, I think."

A sudden realisation hit Ja'far most unpleasantly like a brick.

A bead of sweat started to form on Ja'far's temple as he turned his head dramatically as if in a slow-motion film.

"Ja'far? Why are you turning your head so slowly?" Sinbad asked, as Ja'far's mop of hair brushed lightly against his cheek. He was facing the map of the bus's route which was located right above the exit.

Everything was silent. Deadly silent. All was still including time itself, Sinbad was certain.

And then in one swift execution of words, all hell broke loose.

"THIS BUS IS GOING IN THE WRONG DIRECTION!!!"

\---

6.12pm. After waiting for another half hour for the bus, whose time of arrival by which Ja'far had become completely - for lack of a better word - _done_ , Sinbad and Ja'far had reached the hospital at long last.

It wasn't very crowded, thankfully, and Ja'far helped Sinbad to a seat before helping him register and getting a ticket.

"Room 7, number 2865," said Ja'far monotonously as he took a seat next to Sinbad.

Sinbad frowned at the lacklustre voice. "Are you alright, Ja'far?"

Ja'far didn't respond, staring off blankly into the distance. Sinbad reached over and grabbed his shoulders, shaking them.

"I'm done for..."

"Huh?" Sinbad asked worriedly.

"I said I'm done for, damn it!" exploded Ja'far suddenly, his eyes completely wild in contrast to his voice earlier on. "I was supposed to have started studying half an hour ago!"

"Well, we have some time now. You have your Chemistry textbook with you, don't you? Why don't you study now?"

Ja'far shot him a look of irritation. "How am I going to study properly without a _table?_ "

"What? Why do you need a table?"

Ja'far leaned forward, eyeing Sinbad like a hawk. "Are you implying that I just _read_ off my textbook?"

"How else are you gonna study?"

An eye started to twitch. "You're telling me to just _read_ my textbook? Sinbad, don't you know how to study properly?!"

_Oh crap,_ thought Sinbad as he stared into Ja'far's dark, swirling abysses of eyes. _He's become delirious from all the waiting._

"You're supposed to _highlight key points_ and _take notes_ and you'd need to organise your books and stationery in such a way that it's optimal for learning!"

"Hey, hey..."

"How am I, under these conditions, that is - _without a table,_ supposed to organise all of those? And you can't just READ blindly, you need to internalise information and understand! _Understand?_ "

"Well yeah, whatever I guess. But why can't you just do the reading first and maybe do the rest later at home?" offered Sinbad intelligently.

Ja'far was dumbstruck, yet he continued to stare Sinbad down, unwilling to concede defeat.

"Hey Ja'far, your stare is making me a bit uncomfortable..."

"Hmph. _Whatever I guess,_ " imitated Ja'far childishly, before sighing in exasperation. "Guess it wouldn't kill to get cracking..."

Just as Ja'far reached into his bag to retrieve his textbook, a crisp, professional-sounding voice hollered through the speakers.

"Number 2865! Please head to room 7 right now! Number 2865!"

Ja'far's eye began to twitch uncontrollably once more.

 

\---

7.09pm. Ja'far couldn't believe how long it took just to get Sinbad's _foot_ bandaged up. Ja'far had to keep taking him from this room to that, that one to this. He didn't think injuring an ankle would create so much hassle; Sinbad had to get a pair of new crutches and then learn how to use them. On the bright side, he could more or less move on his own now.

"Stupid foot," cursed Ja'far under his breath.

"Did you say something?" Sinbad asked, wobbling a little as he turned on his crutches.

"Never mind that. Let's get you home, Sinbad," said Ja'far before turning around to leave.

Sinbad stared after him thoughtfully. For someone whom he had just become friends with that day, Ja'far had already begun acting so much like his caretaker. But he could still sense a lot of unexplained distance between them. Sinbad had to admit, he wasn't used to being with someone who kept their barriers up - especially for this long, even. He had a feeling that breaking them down would be a very challenging journey indeed, and it'd be one that he had never really embarked on before. After all, he was Sinbad, the most popular and approachable person in school. No one would ever stay quite so guarded around him for more than ten minutes, if at all.

"Sinbad, you coming?" called Ja'far.

Sinbad smiled - the small, innocent smile that one has when one is humbled, when experiences adoration and intrigue for another; the kind of gentle smile that no one truly ever shows voluntarily.

"Yeah. And just call me Sin," Sinbad called back as he quickly hobbled after Ja'far.

The sun was finally beginning to set overhead, painting the sky all shades of pink mixed in with some yellow tinges.

Sinbad will, without a doubt, unravel this mystery one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was getting too long so I put a part of it in the next chapter, where the flashback will also end and life will move on. I hope this wasn't too tiring to read and once again, happy 2015!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still part of Ja'far's flashback, he and Sinbad have dinner together before going home for the night, ending on a somewhat uneasy note.  
> The following day, they have their chemistry test and there arrives news of an important school event which Sinbad has been eagerly looking forward to. Ja'far, on the other hand...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY THIS IS SO, SO LATE. I promise I'll try my hardest never to abandon this fic and to finish it, but it seems it could quite literally take some years at this rate. OTL  
> Regardless, thank you all so much for supporting and following my story. I have to admit, I experienced some severe bouts of guilt when I kept receiving emails of the kudos I've been receiving even though I haven't updated in such a long time. ;-;
> 
> Well anyway, here you are and I hope it's worth the wait.

In the end, as a result of painful indecision (on Sinbad's part, needless to say), the two boys wound up at a café somewhere a little farther downtown. Ja'far's main reasoning was that it would be much closer to Sinbad's home and therefore more convenient to get to, although it was a considerably hefty sacrifice since his own home was much farther away from the main business districts.

"What are you getting?"

Ja'far barely looked at the menu, an inexplicable sense of unease eating away at his insides. He wasn't really registering anything he read. Finally, he chose to settle on simple black coffee.

Sinbad lowered his own menu and frowned in disapproval. "Not having anything to eat? That's no good. You've been taking care of me the whole day; I've got to make sure you're having at least enough to function."

Ja'far ignored the little flutter in his chest at the slightest implication that he was indeed beginning to harbour perhaps just a  _bit_ of affection for this little fool whom he'd barely just met. He cleared his throat in an attempt to dispel the thought. "I can function on black coffee just fine. Don't worry, I should know since I've done it plenty."

Sinbad's frown deepened but decided not to refute, since it was apparent that Ja'far wouldn't change his mind no matter how he tried to reason about this sort of thing. So Sinbad went ahead with hailing for the waiter.

"I'll have some fish and chips and some iced tea," said Sinbad. The waiter nodded and then looked to Ja'far after taking the other's order.

"Oh, I'll just have a-"

"Please bring him some chocolate lava cake and black coffee."

Ja'far threw him a confused look. "Wait-"

"Just do it," said Sinbad with an air of authority, while somehow still being able to maintain a sense of politeness.

The conflicting qualities of his tone threw Ja'far off and before he could counter, the waiter bowed and left.

Ja'far growled and his eyes narrowed in irritation. "What if I were allergic to chocolate? What would you do? Would you take me back to the hospital with that broken foot of yours?"

Sinbad noticed that when Ja'far was agitated, he had a tendency to lean forward. It was a pretty handy tell-tale sign that Sinbad was about to get chewed off. As always, he simply laughed good-naturedly and waved Ja'far's words off. "My foot's merely sprained, not broken. And well, are you allergic?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Then there's no problem," said Sinbad once again with finality.

Ja'far slammed his fist against the table, although it wasn't very hard. He childishly muttered something along the lines of "Don't want to deal with your stupid face..." as he retrieved his chemistry textbook and tried to study again. He glared at the text, trying to relax his eyebrows from all the furrowing they had done the entire day. But he just couldn't.

 _Damned Sinbad, acting like he's some kind of king who can just decide things for others. Who the hell does this guy even think he is? Damned chocolate lava cake! I don't even like chocolate!_ Ja'far continued to huff angrily, not paying one bit of attention to the textbook.  _Okay...maybe I do. Just a little. But who the hell is he to assume that I would?_

While Ja'far was genuinely annoyed, Sinbad felt that the look on his face was so petulant that he couldn't help but watch. Sinbad observed his facial features. The tension in Ja'far's jaws was apparent; he must have been gritting his teeth in frustration. And such pale skin with a smattering of freckles concentrated around the bridge of his nose... It then dawned on Sinbad that he still hadn't got to touch them. Well, he too thought he had only been joking when he first asked, but a feeling of anticipation tickled his fingers.

"Hey," tried Sinbad, a devious little plot beginning to form in his mind.

Ja'far snapped. "What! Can't you see I'm busy?!"

Sinbad flinched, and then chuckled a little breathlessly. "Relax. I just wanted to tell you that your freckles are lov-"

"One fish and chips and iced tea. And one chocolate lava cake," a waitress cut in, placing the food between them. She smiled at Ja'far and said, "Your black coffee will arrive shortly."

Sinbad thanked the waiter with hidden annoyance at the interruption and found that Ja'far's eyes were boring into his own like laser.

"My freckles are what?" Ja'far sounded utterly unamused. _  
_

"I, um," Sinbad's mind suddenly froze and just like that, his charm had gone out like a candle. What was he thinking? "Uh, your freckles. They're-"

"Here's your black coffee," said the waitress amiably, gently placing the teacup down.

It was Sinbad's turn for his eye to twitch. "Never mind," he said simply, sheepishly grabbing his fork and knife, more than ready to tuck in.

"Weirdo."

As Sinbad looked down at his food, slicing his fish, he couldn't help but ask himself what had caused him to falter. He was so used to giving compliments, even ones he didn't mean. Maybe the reason why he couldn't give this one was because he would  _particularly_ mean it?

That made no sense.

For the rest of the dinner, the pair remained mostly quiet. But the truth was, the thoughts that raced restlessly in both their minds were far louder than the sounds of the bustling city life all around.

Sinbad paid for their meals with yet another quick excuse that it was to make up for all the time and energy Ja'far spent on him today. Ja'far's irritation with Sinbad by this point had pretty much diminished, but he found himself unable to thank him. The unease continued to bubble around his throat, as if refusing to let it open up to release even a single word of thanks.

"Anyway," said Sinbad after the whole bill settling business, "I think I can get home myself, now that I have these crutches. Don't worry about me. You should get home too, so... Bye." Sinbad's smile came more naturally this time than his previous few attempts, hoping his farewell didn't sound too abrupt.

"Oh... Well, bye," replied Ja'far before turning to leave. His home would take about an hour and a half to reach from where he was, and that was if traffic wasn't too heavy. It was already half past eight.

Unfortunately, traffic  _was_  heavy - terribly so, and it was all Ja'far could do to not get off the transportation and run home himself. Who knew how badly that would go...

_**~~~end flashback~~~** _

_And so here I am,_ thought Ja'far. _Tick, tock_  went the clock and now, it was half past eleven. Ja'far considered what a strange day it had been for just a few moments as he got into his loose pyjamas, right before seating himself behind his desk, finally ready to study for _real_. Guess his mind really had been playing tricks on his perception of time, but it seemed as if thinking about the entire day in detail managed calm his mind down somehow.

"Alright," he said to himself, turning on his table lamp. He cracked his knuckles. "If I do this right, I should be able to sleep by...1.30AM. Great, much later than my usual bedtime but at least it's just two hours. Let's do this!"

\---

"Woah Ja'far! Your eyes look like shrivelled prunes! Did you even sleep?"

Ja'far's head whipped around at the offending voice. _Who dares approach me before it's even eight AM?_

When he realised that it was, of course, none other than Sinbad, he unashamedly let out a huge and unsightly yawn, all the while thinking,  _Oh. It's that guy I accidentally befriended yesterday._

"Go away, Sinbad. I-" Ja'far released yet another yawn, "-have to get ready for the chem test..." And another.

Sinbad, repulsively awake and chirpy as ever - the awkward silence of the previous night totally forgotten - simply raised a sceptical eyebrow and wished before turning back to the front, "Okay... Well, good luck!"

"Y-yeah," said Ja'far a little unsteadily.

Just when the test was administered, his head hit the table. The only test Ja'far got to take was but a faraway dream...

Several minutes later, he shrieked in pain. "Ow!"

His chemistry teacher was standing over him and released his ear. She glared.

"M-Miss Mira! I can explain!" protested Ja'far, shooting up in an instant.

"You can  _explain_ after the test is over, which may I remind you, is in  _ten minutes_." she enunciated dangerously. _  
_

Ja'far gasped in horror at the realisation that his test had been shortened by three quarters. He could swear he had just been diligently doing the test..! There was no time to waste on arguing as he scribbled every formula that came to mind with some haphazard explanations here and there.

"Time's up."

" _NO!_ " cried Ja'far in alarm. _  
_

"No nothing, mister! Turn in your paper now!" commanded the teacher. Ja'far visibly deflated as he passed his half-complete test to the class representative. "I'll see you outside now, Ja'far."

Ja'far was practically trembling as he walked the walk of shame towards the exit. Miss Mira was a very beautiful woman and according to one of Sinbad's great tales from yesterday, Sharrkan once tried to flirt with her, and let's just say that "It didn't end very well" would be a _massive_  understatement.

Miss Mira sighed. "What's wrong, Ja'far? You've never fallen asleep in class before."

"I apologise. I had to take my friend to the hospital because he injured his ankle and I'm very unfamiliar with public transport, so it took me quite a while to get there and get home after. I'm sorry." Ja'far hung his head in shame, not daring to face her.

"Ja'far, look at me."

And so he did, and she was surprised to see tears at the corners of his eyes. "Please let me re-take the test."

Miss Mira folded her arms and sighed once again. "I assume the 'friend' you took to the hospital was Sinbad?"

"Yes. Um...how did you know?"

She rolled her eyes and leaned her side against the wall, suddenly looking all too casual. "Everyone heard that goofball scream his head off yesterday. I think he was perfectly  _deserving_ of it, if you ask me."

A chill ran down Ja'far's spine at the sinister look that suddenly overcame her features.

"I-uh, Miss Mira. Please let me re-take the test," repeated Ja'far.

The teacher stared down at Ja'far coldly for a solid five seconds before she swiftly turned to walk back to class and said, "On account of your usual good behaviour, I'll let you take another one after school. There won't be a second time, understood?"

Before Ja'far could respond, she was out of sight. He was relieved, but for now, he had a large obstacle to overcome and that would be even managing to keep himself awake all the way until the end of school.

 

The rest of the school day went by without much problem, and Sinbad bothered him only a little more than necessary. Well, it was mostly welcome anyway since his unpredictable nature managed to help keep Ja'far awake.

He was shaking with excitement for the school bell to ring and signal the end of school so that he could get his re-test over and done with when an announcement boomed in the speakers.

It was a student's voice. "Attention all fellow students! We are pleased to announce that the annual  _Student President Election_ will be held the following Monday! There will be another briefing about the election and the speech presentations tomorrow during assembly. Those who are interested in running, please prepare your campaigns ASAP! As for the others, also do prepare to support your friends and make the best choice for the sake of our future! Thank you!" _  
_

And just in time, the school bell rang. Ja'far instantly kept all his things and got ready to see Miss Mira.

 _School President, huh?_ thought Ja'far to himself as he walked along the outside corridor, his fingers clutching the straps of his schoolbag. He shook his head. He figured he would actually make a pretty decent school president, but he honestly lacked the interest. It just sounded way too...high-flown: Observed all school rules; excelled in every possible aspect of life; the perfect (albeit downright unrealistic) role model for all students. Truth be told, if Ja'far hadn't known better, he could easily sign up and get the role. Most teachers did, after all, tend to favour him given his studious and no-nonsense attitude for he was quite a polite child, excepting his occasional outbursts at his trouble-making classmates - which, if you took into consideration, just made it that much easier for the teachers to handle.

Yet Ja'far was disapproving. He studied only for himself, and the only reason he even put on a façade of being so well-mannered was none other than to stay out of trouble. He would fly through school with as little attention and complication as possible, he told himself - no unnecessary attachment, no complex and uncontrollable emotions and most of all, grades so stellar they could bring him anywhere he chose.

It was the perfect plan, Ja'far believed. Just involve yourself with as little as possible and mind your own damn business.

And as far as he knew, _nothing_ ever interfered with his plans.

\---

The next morning, Ja'far was walking down the hallways to get to class, feeling perfectly well-rested after ten hours of sleep when he realised that something wasn't quite right.

His entire peripheral vision was clouded by a wild flurry of purple posters - stuck carelessly on the scratched walls, pasted messily over the students' lockers, sweeping oh so gracefully across the floors.

Ja'far frowned at the mess and approached his own locker, proceeding to peel off one of the posters.

> **VOTE SINBAD FOR SCHOOL PRESIDENT!**
> 
> _DON'T SETTLE FOR LESS; VOTE FOR SINBAD WHO IS THE BEST!_

Right beneath the slogan (just as obnoxious as the manner in which it was scribbled) was a picture of Sinbad grinning triumphantly with his arms crossed above his chest as though he had already won the election.

Disbelieving, Ja'far drew in a sharp breath.

_"Oh hell no."_

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sinbad's close friends come over to help him fix his flyers and they try to confront him about his feelings for Ja'far.
> 
> Ja'far voices his disapproval regarding Sinbad running for school president, but things don't go the way as planned. Not at all.

Shuffling all his purple-tinted papers and preparing to get down to business, Sinbad lowered himself by the coffee table in his living room.

“Guys, you have no idea how much I appreciate you helping me get the posters up in school and now coming over to help me out with this,” said Sinbad to his friends.

Sharrkan gave a hearty chuckle next to him, an arm casually resting on his right knee as he cut out the letter ‘S’ from a blue piece of construction paper with a pair of scissors. “Don’t mention it, buddy. I mean your leg’s all jacked up now - we _had_ to help you or it’d be a no-go. I gotta see my good ol’ pal win this thing.”

“Yeah,” agreed Spartos with a small voice. “It’s the least we could do for you, Sin.”

“Thanks, Spartos!” grinned Sinbad. “But what about your own class president candidate? What’s that guy’s name again, Drakon or something? Wouldn’t this be sort of betraying your class?”

“Oh, you mean Dragul—”

“—Whatever—”

Spartos sighed. “Well, I mean he’s good, but I don’t think he’s the best option. He seems to be doing it just for the honour and to gain his brother’s approval, something like that or so I heard. Besides, you and I go way back. I think it’s natural I’d support you anyway.”

Yamraiha nodded, “I agree. I just find Dragul a little fishy—”

“Haha, fishy, get it? Cos he looks like a fish,” giggled Sharrkan.

“—and Sin this is something you’re good at. Winning people over. You may act whimsical but you’ve got a strong heart. Wait, Sharrkan, what the hell is _that_? Your ‘S’ looks like a 5! Do it over!”

“What?! You’re not my mum! This looks edgy!” retorted Sharrkan defensively.

Instantly detaching from their little spat, Spartos murmured reminiscently as he examined the flyers, “Isn’t this just like back in primary school? I wish I was in your class. I’m the only one who got separated from you guys and that really sucks.”

Sinbad looked at his friend fondly and reassured, “Hey, that’s not a big deal. We still meet up during recess and lunch breaks. We’d never leave you out.”

Hearing those words, Spartos smiled warmly.

“Okay, you know what?” chimed in Yamraiha, “Sin, we _have_ to revamp these flyers. I’m sorry but what were you thinking? Comic sans?”

Sinbad smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “I thought it looked adorable.”

“No. It doesn’t. I didn’t want to say it when we were putting these up because I thought it was too late, but I’m not going to let that mistake be made again now that we’re at it. We need to make these more…presentable.”

“Then what do we do?” asked Spartos.

“I’ve got a brilliant idea. Sin, get your laptop. Sharrkan, bring the paper and scissors. Spartos, you get the markers ready. Now let’s do this shit.”

 

Several hours later, the four of them were finally finished. Sinbad raised his arms overhead to stretch, and Sharrkan released an unsightly yawn which Yamraiha then followed.

Spartos simply let out a sigh of relief and breathed, “Finally.”

“Is there anything else we have to do?” Sinbad asked just to be sure, although he was quietly praying that they were done. The boys glanced at Yamraiha furtively as she scrutinised the flyer for hopefully the last time that day.

“Verdict..?” asked Sharrkan a little nervously.

“Hmm…” droned Yamraiha pensively before finally announcing, “Yep. I think it’s good.”

“Hell yes!” cheered Sharrkan and Sinbad grinned his usual.

“Alright, so we’ll have two hundred copies and we should be ready!”

Sinbad examined the flyer he and his friends had just spent about three to four hours working on. Granted, it could probably have been finished in an hour and a half if everyone had been well focused, no thanks to Sharrkan and Yamraiha.

Honestly, as good as giving critique Yamraiha was due to her perceptiveness, she was not the best at listening to her own advice and staying on track… There had been numerous occasions in the past few hours alone when she had gotten sidetracked by the sudden need to bicker with Sharrkan, having accused him of picking a terrible colour combination that “looks like it’s trying to gain publicity for the housewarming party of a drug dealer”.

The white-haired boy had then gotten defensive and grabbed her by the collar of her low-cut blouse in the attempt to demand why she was always picking on just him, inadvertently nearly tearing the delicate cloth and exposing her…considerable chest. This entire incident then escalated when Yamraiha tried to strike back, accidentally knocking over a bottle of deep blue ink, effectively tarnishing all two hours of their hard work in just two minutes.

Spartos, with a twitching eye, had then delivered an ultimatum (how out of character, the rest thought) which left the both of them reflecting on their actions in polar corners of the living room.

Now they were finally done and Spartos got up, walking to the kitchen to get himself another glass of warm water.

“You guys can go home now, if you want,” said Sinbad. “Again, thank you _so_ much for all your help. There’s no way I could do this without you.”

Sharrkan shrugged, “I can stay for a little longer. I don’t wanna go back and do homework just yet, _ugh_.”

“Then how about we chat about what’s been going on with our lives?” offered Yamraiha, seeming to throw a pointed look at Sinbad specifically.

“What’s been going on with our lives?” echoed Sinbad, sounding slightly confused. “Yamraiha, we see one another every day.”

Spartos walked back to the coffee table and sat by the other three, looking up curiously as he sipped from his glass.

“No, no,” quickly added Sharrkan, realisation dawning on his tan features. “I think I know what she’s getting at.”

“What did I miss?” asked Spartos.

“ _Ja’far,_ ” pronounced Sharrkan and Yamraiha simultaneously. The latter leaned forward, pushing a few strands of long blue hair out of her eyes to ensure that Sinbad knew she meant business. There was no way she was letting him get out of this.

Spartos blinked in confusion. “Who’s Ja’far?”

“ _Ja’far_ ,” stressed Yamraiha again teasingly, “is this classmate of ours whom Sinbad seems to have a thing for.”

“Yeah, man. What’s up with that?” contributed Sharrkan.

Sinbad looked at his friends, looking genuinely lost. “He’s just a friend. What are you guys talking about?”

“What are _we_ talking about?” asked Sharrkan in disbelief.

“ _Oh, Ja’far, my love! Would you show me those gorgeous freckles of yours?_ ” imitated Yamraiha in an exaggeratedly deep voice.

“ _Yeah, it’s for science! Cos from what I see, you’ve gotta be a grade A specimen,_ ” added Sharrkan rather unhelpfully.

Hearing those poorly re-enacted renditions of his own words, even Sinbad couldn’t help but manage an amused laugh. “For the record,” he clarified with Spartos, “I never said any of those things.”

Sharrkan shot Sinbad a scandalised look as though betrayed. “Did so!”

“I mean yeah, I found his freckles intriguing. Then we became friends and he helped me to the hospital when I hurt my ankle. That’s all there is to it.”

Sharrkan made a face. “ _Intriguing,_ he says. That’s a pretty deep word for some freckles.”

Yamraiha narrowed her eyes, commenting, “Sin, you _literally_ tripped over yourself trying to get his attention.”

“So I got a little clumsy, big deal,” shrugged Sinbad evasively.

“Look, bud,” said Sharrkan, grabbing Sinbad by the shoulders, “we’ve known you for years. We _know_ that look on your face every time you look at him. You _so_ want a piece of that!”

Sinbad winced a little at his choice of words. “Guys, I think you’re forgetting something here.”

“What’s that?”

“I like girls! Sharrkan, you know I’ve never hit on a guy before. I’m _straight._ Ja’far’s… Well, he…” Sinbad tried verbalising his thoughts just as he recalled the time he faltered when he had tried to tell Ja’far how lovely his freckles were. He, Sinbad, actually faltered when trying to pay someone a compliment – _Sinbad_ never falters when complimenting someone..! If anything, he had always been known for his total lack of remorse when trying to charm the ladies with his notoriously glib tongue.

 _Then again_ , countered his own mind, _the waitress had been interrupting me. So maybe I was just thrown off. Yes, that must be it._

“Well?” prompted Yamraiha.

“Look, I don’t know. He’s just a friend and he’s fun to hang out with, I guess. I really think that’s all. Maybe I was daydreaming about somebody else when my eyes happened to be on him, and then you thought I was thinking about him or something. But really? There’s nothing.”

Sharrkan frowned while Yamraiha shot him a look of scepticism. Spartos just continued remaining silent, since there was nothing he could possibly offer without any knowledge regarding this mysterious, freckled Ja’far guy.

Finally, Yamraiha simply sighed. “Alright then. If you say you just see him as a friend, then we believe you.”

“How about…we invite him to join us during recess and lunch? Then I can introduce him to you too, Spartos. Then you guys will see that he’s nothing more than just a friend.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. He always looks so lonely, anyway,” agreed Yamraiha, as Sharrkan and Spartos nodded their heads.

“Alright!” exclaimed Sharrkan after a brief glance at his wristwatch. “It’s getting pretty late. We better head back now.”

“He’s right. See you tomorrow during your speech?” said Spartos.

“Yeah! Thanks again, guys. Really. See you all.”

As Sinbad watched his friends file out his doorway after gathering all the materials they had brought to help design his flyers, a small sense of unease continued to linger in his stomach.

_Me seeing Ja’far as more than a friend?_

Sinbad shut the door behind them and locked it with a click.

_Definitely not._

 

\---

The next morning in school, as Sinbad casually hobbled – as casually as one can hobble with a healing ankle, anyway – through the hallways, he noticed Ja’far walking quickly towards him.

“Hey, Ja’far!”

“Sinbad,” greeted Ja’far solemnly. “I need to talk to you.”

“What’s up? Let’s talk as we walk. Or rather, _you_ walk and I hobble. Haha! Cos, you know, we should really get to class.”

“Yeah, look,” said Ja’far as he slowed down to make sure that Sinbad could keep up, “I don’t think you should do this.”

“Do what?" asked Sinbad, cocking his head a little. "Get to class?”

Ja’far inhaled before saying, “The election thing. I don’t think you should run for elections.”

Starting to realise what this was about, Sinbad paused and angled himself carefully to face Ja’far, “Why not?”

Ja’far visibly gulped, trying to square his shoulders and meet the other’s gaze. _Damn, have his eyes always looked like liquid gold?_ “I—um, I just really don’t think you should.”

Sinbad softened his gaze, and simply replied, “I humbly refuse. I think I’m still going ahead with it.” He then continued towards the classroom.

Biting his lip and clenching his fists, his gaze indignantly and steadily directed to the ground, Ja’far suddenly burst, “You don’t even have what it takes to be school president!” Upon hearing himself, his head snapped up in panic. _Shit, wait no— That’s not what I wanted to say!_

Sinbad stopped again and remained still for a second. To Ja’far, that was a second too long.

Then Sinbad turned around, pushing down the unfamiliar feeling of having just been emotionally slapped and gave his brightest smile. “Why do you think that?” he asked as calmly as he could.

Ja’far stared at him with wide eyes. _How could he still smile like that after I just said that to him? Take it back! Hurry, take my words back!_

But Ja’far did not.

"You're painfully indolent and you don't even take things seriously! You never even bother to study for your tests and you just think about flirting all the damn time! Do you think you're just going to win by acting flamboyant and getting all the girls in school?"

_Great going, Ja’far! You just screwed it up even worse!_

Slightly amused, Sinbad teases, “Are you upset because _you_ want to be school president?”

Ja’far was thrown off by his completely casual and conversational response. _How like him…_ “W-What? No! I don’t care about this sort of thing. I just…don’t think you’re suitable for this.”

Sinbad grinned, “You seem awfully nervous. Got something to hide?”

“Quit making this about me. I’m talking about you.”

“Aww, you sure? I think you just want to be the school president! Is that why, Ja’far? Is it?” pressed Sinbad, masking his face in false delight. “You don’t want to compete with me because you’re afraid you’re going to lose to me! It’s because I’m such a charismatic human being, isn’t it—”

Ja’far watches on in horror. _What the hell is this guy going on about all of a sudden?_

“—but don’t worry! I wouldn’t gloat in front of my opponents—”

Like a fragile twig, Ja’far’s composure finally snapped in half. “FINE! You’re right! I _do_ think I’d make a better school president than you! Anyone would!”

Sinbad’s jaws snapped shut. _Anyone?_

“You're just an insufferable brat with no credibility whatsoever!” Ja’far continued raising his voice. _Oh my god, Ja’far, stop! What am I doing? Stop talking!_ “You're not reliable at all and...and even if you win, it's not going to be because you actually deserve it, but just because of something as superficial as your popularity.”

Shocked by the piercing candour, Sinbad asked, barely a whisper, “Is that what you’ve been thinking of me all this while..?”

Ja'far bit his lip again with a pang of guilt and hesitated, but nodded firmly at last.

After a beat, Sinbad flashed _yet_ another smile, woeful and forced as it was. In a clipped voice he replied, "I see. Well, my friends helped me out a great deal yesterday so I can't let their work go to waste. So I guess I'll see you tomorrow onstage at the speech presentation, Ja'far. Maybe…maybe you’ll change your mind then."

That entire day in class, Sinbad did not turn around to bother Ja'far even once.

And Ja’far had never, until then, realised that anyone could ever make him feel so lonely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finally updated in exactly 7 months...
> 
> I'M SORRY FOR THE ANGST. So much for a light fluffy fic, eh? Ha...ha...ha... I do promise it gets better...
> 
> In case you're confused about why Ja'far acted like that, it's just that even though he doesn't really care about being the school president per se, he just doesn't want it to be in the hands of someone who's incapable. But boy does he _not_ know what kind of person Sinbad truly is.
> 
> Stay tuned! The two idiots will be a lot happier after this.


End file.
